Thursday, December 18, 2003

Let no man, hobbit, elf, or dwarf tear asunder.

I was watching some show like Access Hollywood (it wasn't like Access Hollywood, it was Access Hollywood - unless it was Extra) last night, and they were showing some footage of people at the Return of the King on opening day, including a couple getting married in full LOTR regalia. The minister "improved" on the traditional "What god has brought together, let no man tear asunder" in an adorable fashion, I thought.

Speaking of ministers, I just got off the telephone with Justin, who will be marrying Will and I. He has cleared the date and is thrilled that the wedding will be during the day, as he has tiny hobbits (er, children) who will be attending as well. Which reminds me, our wedding will be child-friendly. I know that this sometimes causes problems, but the only thing that I can think of as far as that goes that even has a possibility of being true is that the parents may be distracted by their babies, and frankly, parents should pay attention to their babies. I was thinking of maybe getting some crafty projects and setting up a table where the little ones could do stuff on their own, if they got bored.

[drastic change of subject]
I had the loveliest experience yesterday. In an odd sort of way. I had to go to the bank to transfer some money from my dad's account to ours (for the deposit on the movie theater) and to cash my paycheck. Because I stopped off at the mailbox to pick up my check, I exited the building through the front door, rather than the side door that's closest to our apartment. So I took a different route than I usually take to the bank. As I walked down Harvard, I had a stunningly vivid sense memory, though it took me a moment to place the smell. I finally realized that the patches of grass I was passing had been fertilized, and I was smelling a farm. There is something about the smell of cow dung that is just lovely. Not that I'd want a perfume of it or anything, but I don't wear perfume anyway.

I turned right on 6th Street, past the homeless guy who sits in front of the post office. I smiled at him and he smiled back. It made me wonder how many people just walk past the homeless, never even looking at them. At Hobart, I passed three or four boys who were just sitting, being hoodlums or whatever it is that boys do on street corners. They looked at me, and one of them made a funny sound that I suppose is something like whistling, and another said to his friends, "I bet she's getting a book." It was very surreal, though I was walking in the direction of the library. Do I look like a bookworm? Do all white girls hang out at the library? I don't know. But it was funny.

After I took care of my business at the bank I went to the grocery store, where I was horrified to discover that apparently NO ONE sells parchment paper anymore. Bastards! So I bought french fries instead.